Since the day Chuck Berry duck-walked across his first stage and Elvis’ hips later brought white America into the fold, rock n roll has been imbued with all kinds of mystical powers. To heal and save individuals, to shift cultures, to create soulful communion. But what really happens when the backbeat drops and the bass abides in lockstep? When the Les Paul crunches and melody takes over? While everyone who has experienced a life-changing event at a rock n roll show can tell you, words don’t do it justice. However, you and I both know the best rock n roll will take you away in fantasy or deep into your beating heart.
Some bands do both.
The Gaslight Anthem touched down in the Pacific Northwest on Monday September 13th to play Seattle’s Showbox SODO and Portland’s Crystal Ballroom. Central Jersey’s finest export since Carmela Soprano became Nurse Jackie is making a jump in venue size since the June release of their critically acclaimed third full length, American Slang. Tour hounds, the band continues criss-crossing the nation and Europe to thrown down with its growing throng of devotees. As I drove north on I-5 through the gorgeous early fall afternoon, I discovered song writer/front man Brian Fallon and guitarist Alex Rosamilla would be performing at Seattle’s Easy Street Records prior to the main attraction later that night. As if a great basketball game suddenly went to overtime on a buzzer beating tip-in, I was elated! Free hoops! A sizable crowd gathered in Queen Anne Hill’s temple of music. If you are ever in Seattle get to Easy Street – a vast spread of awesomeness.
Playing a short set with just two acoustic guitars shifted the band’s tone dramatically from their typically bombastic soul punk power. Stripping songs down to their bare essentials brought Fallon’s heartfelt lyrics to the fore as American Slang’s ode to living in the moment, “Old Haunts”, kicked off the set. Brian was in his usual talkative mood, expounding on various topics throughout the half hour set including why the Yankees rule and the Red Sox suck (ain’t that the truth!), the power of Robitussin to skew stage banter toward the absurd, and the lyrical inspiration Beetlejuice can provide. The duo added a reggae lilt to “Boxer”, and included “Senor and the Queen” from their similarly titled 2007 EP. A gorgeous version of American Slang’s ITunes bonus track, “She Loves You” and the fulfillment of a fan’s request for Pearl Jam’s “State of Love and Trust”(Fallon: “really? In Seattle? Is that cool?”) completed the set.
From the intimate confines of a record store meet and greet the band headed to the Showbox SODO, a cavernous warehouse standing underneath the glowing bastions of Safeco and Qwest fields. As the crowd continued filling in, Gaslight arrived on stage to the bounce of Beyonce’s ubiquitous anthem “Single Ladies”. There is no pretense with this band. Embracing all music that moves it was great to see Alex and Brian have some fun as they copped a few of Beyonce’s signature moves before dropping into the title track from American Slang.
A full 20 songs spanning their four releases drove the main portion of the set. Leaving his rhythm guitar duties aside for a four song segment in the middle Fallon embodied the role of soul-punk preacher, waving his arms and genuflecting with his lyrics full of references to the music that inspired him (Tom Petty songs), dreams of escape, and his new found commitment to embrace the band’s growth into adulthood. Tracks from the more proto-punk debut, “Sink or Swim”, mixed attractively with the maturing song writing of their second two full lengths. A notable example of this growing development is the new track, “The Queen of Lower Chelsea”. Lacking the passionate fury of many Gaslight anthems, the song is highlighted by guitarist Alex Rosamilla’s brilliant and enduring contribution to the band’s sound. As he focuses on adding delicate yet textured leads that interlock with Fallon’s Les Paul crunch, Rosamilla’s melodic sensibility is undoubtedly the band’s secret weapon.
Fallon’s tendency to reference American rock n roll’s bygone era throughout his lyrics gets indelibly highlighted in a live set. The band calls upon the ghosts of classic rock, jazz, soul, and even old Hollywood to inform and expand their own unbridled heart. You ear will no doubt catch the romantic oeuvres to “Miles Davis and the Cool”, Marilyn Monroe, Judy Garland, Elvis, “poor Mr. Pitiful” (Otis Redding), Audrey Hepburn, and Wilson Pickett. You might even hear a snippet of Bob Seger or Counting Crows. Fallon loves fully quoting or running the band through segments of cover songs in the middle of original tracks. Before “Bring it On” he quoted Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys are Back in Town” and the band inserted The Animals’ classic “House of the Rising Sun” into their Senor and the Queen burner “Say I Wont Recognize” which itself borrows heavily from Sam Cooke’s “Having a Party”. Cooke’s influence perked up again in Portland a night later with a quote of his 1964 classic “Good Times”, once covered by such classic rock luminaries as The Rolling Stones and The Grateful Dead.
Always offering their audience a hearty encore helping with extended religious fervor, drummer Benny Horowitz lead the band back on stage and launched into the rhythmic pulse of “Casanova, Baby!” off of 2008’s The ’59 Sound, the album that propelled Gaslight into the national spotlight. Its difficult for me to pick a favorite track, but for a time, “Casanova, Baby!” was it for me. Fallon, explained this was the song that expressed his desire to escape his gas pumping and pizza making in central Jersey and the lyrics read with his typical sincerity: “…I’m dying to breath again…We could run all night and dance upon the architecture. So come and take my hand, I’ll give the very best I can. Forget this dead man’s town I’ll take you home”. Also included in the encore was a reprise of “She Loves You” from earlier in the day. The full band version reared its head as a call to the heavens, a thank you to the giving souls who dedicate their lives to easing the pain of others. With myriad references to Fallon’s new Brooklyn home and Rosamilla’s incredible vocal counterpoints, this was a heart tugger.
And then there was Portland.
My adopted hometown is not known for its overly enthusiastic rock n roll crowds but the Gaslight obliterated that reputation in one fell swoop through the historic Crystal Ballroom. Uncharacteristically, the band played the same first 7 songs as they did in Seattle; and it didn’t matter one bit. Slaying their opening sequence of “American Slang”, “Boxer, “We Came to Dance”, and “The Diamond Church Street Choir”, Portland was baptized into the band’s unique and tender power immediately. Fists thrust in the air with each imprintingly catchy chorus and chugging rhythm, we were soaking wet 15 minutes in.
It’s worth highlighting “The Diamond Church Street Choir” as it channels Fallon’s most successful attempt to actually write a Motown-esque song without using his usual lyrical touchstones to help him achieve this effect. With a lilting melody, perfectly placed harmonies, and an undeniable SWING, this track represents how central the band’s rhythm section is to their sound. Bassist Alex Levine will strut, preen, and shout as he adds his thick, warm bounce to Horowitz’s swerve and graceful touch. When Fallon shouts “Baby, who, who, who sings it better than we do?” its difficult to come up with a legit response.
Finding a crew of sincere dancers at a Portland rock n roll show can sometimes be as hard as it used to be to find good pizza before Apizza Scholls arrived in town. Often standing still like lab assistants peaking into an Erlenmeyer flask, Portland’s kids let their hair down on Tuesday night and came to dance. Knees got weak, people jumped from benches, crowd surfers rode their ecstatic moment above the waves, and others even felt inspired to bust out their long dormant 80s dance moves. It was a rock n roll baptism. Rinse, wash, repeat. All night long.
As each song built upon the previous one, it became abundantly clear how Gaslight songs are all part of a burgeoning, new school classic canon overflowing with liberal portions of passion, hope, fury and love. There is a longing deeply rooted in this music, one that is played out nightly on stage, transforming the dream into lived experience. When a chorus drops and a hundred fists thrust in the air or a wellspring inside compels another voice to add to the growing choir, “it might be one o’clock and it might be three, time don’t mean that much that to me. I haven’t felt this good since I don’t know when, and I might not feel this good again”. Don’t resist.
Glide contributor Chris Calarco can be contacted at chriscalarco@gmail.com.
